


The Stony Element

by wouldirunoff



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Biting, Dialogue Heavy, Geology, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, That becomes RST, UST, Will thinks too much, dark Will but he's calm about it, eventually, mild bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wouldirunoff/pseuds/wouldirunoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will would like to be himself. He's just not entirely certain who that is anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stony Element

Since their fall, Will had found ample opportunity to watch Hannibal cook. In the early days of their acquaintance, it had felt almost too intimate. It was a privilege Will was unsure he’d earned. Will was assured of his place now, but familiarity had done little to dull the illicit feeling that shivered up his spine as he watched Hannibal’s exposed forearms and competent hands.

It had become something of a ritual these days for Will to sit on a stool at the kitchen island while Hannibal prepared dinner. Will observed in silence, and in return Hannibal made no indication that he was aware of Will’s presence. Certainly, he was aware, but Will accepted this small fabrication. He relished any chance to observe Hannibal without being observed in return even if it were only a fantasy they jointly worked to maintain.  

Will found himself still adjusting to their new dynamic. It had seemed simple, fluid as they killed Dolarhyde together. They were in tandem, and it had made sense. Nothing had ever made more sense. Killing someone, Will was beginning to find, brought him clarity of thought and emotion that he otherwise struggled to reach. Yet, as the adrenaline faded from his system and the euphoria drifted away, he again became muddled.

He had no intentions of trying to return to a Will Graham that held tightly to a morality he never fully grasped. He knew that Will was gone. He was with Hannibal, and he was meant to be there. He just wasn’t sure who Hannibal wanted him to be. If he asked, he was certain Hannibal would tell him to be his true, unburdened self. Will should relax and accept who had emerged from within and from the water. Will had never been very good at relaxing.

So, he watched Hannibal. He tried to see what Hannibal wanted from him. It was proving more difficult than Will had expected. For all of the insight that came with Will’s empathy disorder and his powers of observation, Hannibal was often much like the granite countertops he so prized: impenetrable. In a past life, Will had found that comforting. It was refreshing to interact with someone whose thoughts and feelings didn’t bombard him. Of course, once he began to see Hannibal, to really see him, it became a challenge, a puzzle. He sought to learn the minerals that formed Hannibal, and he succeeded. He’d sliced Hannibal into thin sections and studied him through the microscope lens of his perception until he learned how Hannibal had formed. Until he learned what Hannibal had become.

Now, though, there was something new. A chemical reaction had precipitated a new mineral into Hannibal’s matrix, and Will was still struggling to understand. His gaze darted from Hannibal’s hornblende-in-thin-section eyes down to the potassium feldspar that formed his lips and found himself caught. What did Hannibal want?

Will became aware that Hannibal had ceased all movement and was watching Will from the corner of his eye. Their unspoken agreement was broken with a small glance, and Will felt the tension rise between them as if it were a living thing, stretching awake from a deep slumber. They hadn’t touched this, not since the cliff. It had been easy to ignore it, this pull, while they healed from wounds, and Hannibal set them up to play house in God-knows-where. It felt like they were on an extended vacation. Hannibal excelled in the role of amiable host while Will spent his time doing his best to shake apart. Albeit, there was an awful lot of human meat in the fridge for this to really be most people’s idea of an idyllic getaway.

Hannibal eventually resumed his task after Will had only stared at him with wide eyes, frozen, unable to diffuse the moment. Will deliberately directed his gaze to the counter, the cabinet, the stove, the counter, the sink, the counter. He needed somewhere safe to look. Hannibal could no longer be counted on to act as a neutral subject.

Will was unaware of how long he’d been flicking his eyes between the various inanimate objects that made their home in the kitchen before he felt warm hands on his shoulders.

“Calm yourself, dear Will.” Hannibal’s breath heated the shell of Will’s ear and one hand moved slowly up his shoulder to gently cup the side of his neck. In retrospect, he will notice the digit resting on his pulse point, but in this moment Will knew only the feeling of being surrounded by Hannibal. “You are beginning to panic.”

Will realized Hannibal was correct. He hadn’t noticed. He’d been too busy panicking.  Will took a deep breath. Hannibal’s scent overwhelmed him, and he began to calm. He felt the movement of the air near to his skin as Hannibal nodded with satisfaction and moved away. Will catalogued the tightness in his abdomen as Hannibal carried away the meal that had apparently been completed without Will’s conscious knowledge. He followed Hannibal to the dining room.

 

* * *

 

For the next few days, Will abstained from watching Hannibal cook. He met him in the dining room when dinner was ready. They spoke to each other during meals, but another unspoken agreement indicated that Hannibal would keep the conversation relegated to subjects lacking any emotional baggage. This left the conversation with something to be desired, though Will could never be sure Hannibal wasn’t implying something even with the most topically inane subject, but Hannibal had refrained from anything overt. Will had been wary this agreement would be void as well, but it would seem his fears were unfounded.

Eventually, Will admitted that he missed the quiet intimacy of Hannibal at work in the kitchen. He slinked back in, not knowing what to expect, but Hannibal did not acknowledge him. He returned to their previous routine, to all appearances forgetting the small breach had ever occurred. Will did not trust this. He knew this part of Hannibal very well. Still, he let himself indulge in the fantasy for as long as Hannibal would allow him.

Will was watching Hannibal’s hands efficiently chop a selection of vegetables some few weeks later when Hannibal decided he’d had enough of waiting.

“Tell me, Will, do you still find it beautiful?”

Will froze, mind full of the moments before their fall, but he did not begin to panic. He had known to expect this. He took a ragged breath.

“Yes.”

“Then why do you still struggle?” Hannibal’s tone was reminiscent of Will’s appointments. Will gave a short, sharp laugh that startled Hannibal out of his detached demeanor. He forgot the vegetables and turned to look directly at Will.

“That’s not what I’m struggling with.”

“Then you accept your becoming?” Hannibal was skeptical.

“Yeah, I’ve been converted. You don’t need to worry about that.” Hannibal sniffed delicately; no doubt he was mildly put off by Will’s casual treatment of what Hannibal felt was a very momentous occasion.

“Yet you do not accompany me to… _hunt_.”

“Believe me, the _hunting_ is not the issue.”

“Then your issue concerns me.”

“Look, okay, issue is the wrong word. Well, it’s not the wrong word, but you’re not the issue. I just – fuck.” Will ran a hand through his hair.

“I would not have thought you the type to be disturbed by attraction to another male.” Will spluttered and glared at the gleam in Hannibal’s eyes.

“That’s not the issue either!”

“Then I fail to see why you won’t join me.”

“I just. I don’t know how to be with you. Not,” Will continued quickly to forestall whatever comment Hannibal might care to make, “how to be with you, just, who to be with you. Now. I don’t know who you want me to be outside of _hunting_. I always had a framework for how to behave. You were my psychiatrist, and then I was playing the long game to get you to reveal yourself as the Ripper.  After that, I just wanted to find you. To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what I would do when I did. Then you were trying to eat my god damn brains.” He paused to give Hannibal a dirty look. “We were captured by Mason, and then you gave yourself up. I did my best to try and forget you. One thing in a line of many I wasn’t very successful at.” Will took a deep breath. “Look, I just, there’s never been a time when I didn’t have a purpose or a part to play. I don’t know how to do the domestic part of this, between all the blood. I don’t know who you want me to be for that.” He was breathing heavily. He felt more grounded in his body than he had since he pushed them from the cliff.

“And in response to all of this uncertainty you thought it best to cease all meaningful communication?”

“I’m pretty sure I just said I wasn’t very good at this.”

“Your marriage gave you no tools to draw from?”

“Damn it, Hannibal! I was playing a role then, too. Is that what you want to hear? I’ve always been playing a role. I’ve never not played a role. Not only with you, but with anyone, for anything, forever.  I know you want me to accept myself. I’ve got the big stuff down, all right? I just didn’t realize how daunting the small details of the real Will Graham would be.”

“Well, at the very least you appear to be very sure about being unsure.” Will buried his face in his hands and hunched over the island counter. He didn’t know how to fix this. He thought he’d made that clear. Hannibal sighed. “Will, why do you watch me while I cook?” Will peeked through his fingers. The response was muffled by his palms. Hannibal merely waited until Will repeated himself without the obstruction.

“I was trying to figure out what you wanted from me, who I was supposed to be.”

“You wanted a role to play.”

“Yes.” Hannibal moved around the island to rest his hands on Will’s shoulders in echo of their last kitchen conversation.

“I won’t tell you who you are. I never wanted that. I only ever wanted you to be released from the bindings you placed on yourself.” His lips brushed Will’s ear.

“I know. That’s why I didn’t ask. I wanted to figure it out myself, but I can’t.” Hannibal curled over Will until his torso was flush against Will’s back.

“You won’t figure it out, Will, because I have no role to give you, no expectations. You will, I’m afraid, have to start allowing yourself to react.”

Will stifled a somewhat hysterical chuckle at the thought that the man who had manipulated, framed, and attempted to eat him was now offering him what sounded like a solid foundation to a healthy relationship. Hannibal wanted no pretense. He reined in his amusement, in part, to avoid offending Hannibal, but the largest contributing factor was that Hannibal had begun pressing soft kisses to the side of his neck.

Involuntarily, Will tilted his head to the side to expose more of his skin to the insistent lips. Between kisses, Hannibal continued, “You see, Will, reacting to me is quite straightforward.” He then bit hard enough into Will’s neck to draw blood. Will released a sound somewhere between a sob and a sigh of relief. Abruptly, Hannibal seized Will by the arms, turned him, and slammed him against the island. He pinned Will thoroughly with his full body weight. “You have, I think, tested not only my patience, but your own.” Hannibal’s eyes were as unguarded as Will had ever seen them. Will understood it then, the new mineral, as Hannibal brought their hips together, stimulating an erection Will was barely aware he possessed.  Hannibal might not have concrete expectations, but Will could see what Hannibal needed. He felt, now, what he needed from Hannibal. He had forgotten, before this, that he could need.

Breaking free from his thoughts, Will grabbed Hannibal’s head with both hands and pulled him into a rough kiss. He tasted his own blood on Hannibal’s teeth and heard himself moan. He was too desperate now. They both were. They ground together, fully clothed, inelegant, until completion. As they panted into each other’s mouths, Hannibal rested his brow on Will’s.

“Hunt with me.”

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> "It is hard to know rocks. They are crude and inaccessible to our nature. We have not enough of the stony element in us." - Thoreau, his journals  
> As someone with a geology degree, I somewhat disagree, but a passing thought associated these sentences, especially the first, with Mads Mikkelsen's face. So, here we are.
> 
> hornblende is brown in thin section  
> potassium feldspar is commonly pink


End file.
